


And I'm so damn scared of dying without you

by camwolfe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Drunkenness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 23:23:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3747397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camwolfe/pseuds/camwolfe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve doesn't mind taking care of Bucky. Hell, he certainly owes him one. But when Bucky's drunk like this, he's just too damn heavy for Steve to carry. Of course, it's not going to stop Steve from trying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I'm so damn scared of dying without you

**Author's Note:**

> lmao I finally finished one of my eleven unfinished fics! amazing. 
> 
> wrote this at 4am last night, after hours of lying awake staring at the ceiling. forgive me for the probable spelling/grammar errors 
> 
> Title is from "Corpse Roads" by Keaton Henson.

Steve, for once, was actually having a nice evening.

Going on a double date with Bucky usually ended badly for Steve, but tonight was all right.

They were at one of Bucky’s favourite dance halls. He and his date, a pretty girl named Anna, had been out on the floor the entire time. She was just as good of a dancer as Bucky was, and they looked great together. They occasionally swung by to grab another drink and wave at Steve and his date, and then they would disappear again.

Steve’s date was named Louise, and she was a nice girl. She was taller than Steve was, and she clearly wasn’t interested in him romantically. She was polite and friendly, though, which was more than Steve could say for most of his dates. She also had a bad ankle, and was content to sit with Steve and talk.

They were chatting about the store that Louise worked in when Anna walked up to their table.

“Ah, Steve,” she said, a little awkwardly. “I think Bucky’s had a little too much to drink.”

Steve frowned. “Where is he?”

“Outside,” Anna said. “I thought it was best…”

Steve sighed and got up. He helped Louise out of the booth and then hurriedly paid their tab.

Sure enough, Bucky was slumped against the outside of the building. He straightened up when Steve walked outside with the girls, a sloppy smile spreading across his face.

“Anna!” he said happily. “Where’d… where’d you go?”

She smiled at him, although she stayed at Louise’s side. “I think we’re going to turn in for the night, Bucky.”

Bucky frowned, swaying on his feet a little. “But it’s so early.”

Anna shrugged. “Well…”

Bucky stumbled again and had to catch himself against the wall, even as Steve stepped forward in case he fell.  “Aw, no. It’s because of me, isn’t it?”

Anna and Louise exchanged glances. Steve sighed.

“I’m real… I’m real sorry,” Bucky slurred. “We’ll… walk you home, right Steve?”

Steve turned to the girls, but Louise was already waving him off.

“My apartment’s just a block away,” she said. “We’ll be fine.”

“You’re sure?” Steve said cautiously. “It’s the least we can do.”

“Absolutely,” Anne said. She was looking worriedly at Bucky, who was now about to stumble into the street. “I’m more concerned about him.”

“I’ll get him home,” Steve said. The girls waved as they walked away, and Steve darted over to pull Bucky out of the street.

“Come on, Buck,” he said patiently. He tugged Bucky’s arm, and Bucky obediently stumbled after him. “Let’s get you home.”

“Nooo,” Bucky whined, but he followed Steve down the sidewalk. “Let’s… let’s do something fun!”

“We were doing something fun,” Steve said. “But you got too drunk and now we’re going home.”

Bucky sighed. “You had fun though, right? Louise is… she’s really nice!”

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve said. “I had a good time.”

Bucky beamed at him, and then tripped on a crack in the sidewalk.

“Aw, come on,” Steve said a little desperately. He grabbed Bucky’s arm and shoulder and somehow managed to haul him back up. “You’re going to ruin your clothes.”

“Nah,” Bucky said as he stumbled back to his feet. “They’re good.”

“They’re not gonna be if you keep falling,” Steve said. He started walking again, but Bucky just kept ambling slowly down the street behind him.

When he careened straight into a storefront, Steve sighed and walked back.

“Come here,” Steve said, a little impatiently. He ducked under Bucky’s arm and slung it around his shoulders, wincing as Bucky’s weight shifted onto him.

“Aw, you don’t have to,” Bucky slurred into Steve’s ear. “I’m good, Stevie, really.”

“Yeah, you seem like it,” Steve muttered. He started walking again, Bucky slumped against him.

“Sorry… I’m sorry about this,” Bucky said after another few minutes. “Didn’t mean to… to ruin your night.”

“You didn’t ruin it,” Steve told him. “You just cut it a little short.”

Bucky didn’t reply. He leaned more heavily on Steve’s shoulders.

Steve was starting to get out of breath, and his back was starting to ache from carrying Bucky like this. He just gritted his teeth and kept walking.

“’M tired,” Bucky mumbled. “Can we… can we stop for a minute?”

“No,” Steve said firmly. “We’re almost there.”

“We’re _not,”_ Bucky groaned. “Let’s stop.”

With that, he pulled himself away from Steve and thumped against the building next to them. He slid to the ground, ending up with his legs stretched out in front of him.

“I’m not going to clean the dirt off your clothes when we get home,” Steve told him. Bucky shrugged listlessly.

Steve sighed, but he was actually a little grateful for the momentary reprieve.

At least, he was until he noticed Bucky starting to slump down and his head start to loll.

“Bucky,” Steve said sharply. “Wake up.”

“Ungh,” Bucky mumbled.

Steve knelt down and tried to pull Bucky upright again. He didn’t stand a chance of doing so. Bucky’s dead weight just pulled at the sore muscles in Steve’s already-twisted back.

“Bucky,” Steve said. “You need to get up. If you pass out here, I’m not gonna be able to get you home.”

“’M fine here,” Bucky slurred. He waved a lethargic hand at Steve.

“No, you’re not,” Steve snapped. He tried to pull Bucky up again, and he couldn’t help the hiss of pain that escaped when his back protested.

Bucky lifted his head at that, blinking tiredly. He braced himself against the wall and slowly got to his feet, Steve watching him warily.

“You good?” Steve asked cautiously.

“Yeah,” Bucky mumbled. He started walking again, not looking at Steve.

It was slow going, even after Steve slipped back under his arm.

“Why’d you do this, Buck?” he asked as they walked. “You’re not normally like this.”

“They gave me drinks,” Bucky slurred. “Free ones.”

Steve frowned. “They gave you free drinks? At the bar?”

“Uh huh. Anna told them… she told them that I’m leaving soon.”

“Oh,” Steve said, wishing that he hadn’t asked. “Well, that was nice of them."

 

They made it all the way inside their building before Bucky went down again. They had three flights of stairs up to their apartment, and Bucky tripped on the first one.

Steve winced as Bucky fell and then rolled back against the wall. His heart sank when he saw that Bucky’s eyes were closed again.

“Bucky, no, come on,” he muttered. He shook Bucky’s shoulder.

Steve spent the next few minutes trying to wake him up. He got Bucky to open his eyes a few times, but Bucky just stared at him blurrily and then passed out again.

Steve was swearing under his breath when he heard a door on the first landing open.

Steve winced, expecting Mrs. Carlson to storm out and start yelling. Her husband appeared instead.

Steve didn’t even know his first name. He was quiet and kept to their apartment, having lost his eye and part of his face in the war. He stood at the top of their stairs now, though, looking down at Steve impassively.

“Sorry,” Steve said hastily. “We didn’t mean to wake anyone up.”

The man shook his head, staring down at Bucky. “He shipping out soon?”

Steve’s chest constricted a little. “Three days.”

Mr. Carlson sighed and walked down the stairs, stepping carefully over Bucky.

He leaned down and slid his hands under Bucky’s arms, pulling him easily to his feet. Bucky groaned, his eyes fluttering open.

“Only a little further,” Mr. Carlson said. “And then you can sleep.”

Mr. Carlson hauled Bucky up the stairs, Steve following behind. Bucky pulled away from him and leaned against the wall next to their door as Steve fished his keys out of his pocket.

“Thank you,” he said, keeping one hand out to make sure Bucky didn’t fall again.

Mr. Carlson waved off Steve’s thanks, casting another sad look at Bucky. He turned and walked back down the stairs.

“Tired,” Bucky mumbled. His eyes were closed.

“Almost there, Buck,” Steve said, almost as tiredly. He managed to get the door unlocked and pulled Bucky in after him.

They only had one tiny bedroom in the apartment, and all it fit was a wardrobe and a small bed. Bucky’s bed was in their living room because it was the larger of the two, and Steve had never been more grateful for that than at this moment.

Bucky made it to his bed without any help from Steve, and flopped down face first onto it.

“You gotta take your clothes off,” Steve said firmly as he started turning the lights on. “Then you can sleep.”

Bucky groaned and made one half-hearted attempt at kicking his shoes off.

Steve sighed and walked over. He got Bucky’s shoes off and set them next to his bed.

“Shirt,” Steve said. “That’s the only nice one you’ve got. You can’t sleep in it.”

“I can and I will,” Bucky mumbled. Steve rolled his eyes and pushed at his shoulder until Bucky rolled over onto his back.

Steve was undoing the buttons on Bucky’s shirt when Bucky caught his wrists.                                                  

“You undressing me now?” Bucky said, a hint of a smirk on his face. His eyes were still closed, though, and Steve rolled his eyes.

“I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t have to,” Steve said. It was a blatant lie, and he stuttered a little as he said it. Bucky was too drunk to notice.

Steve finally got the shirt off, ignoring the way that Bucky’s shoulders looked without it.

“I’m gonna hang this up,” he called as he walked into the small bedroom.

“You’re the best, Stevie,” Bucky slurred.

He opened the wardrobe against one wall and hung Bucky’s shirt in it. Bucky was the only one who kept his clothes in here, and Steve never bothered to look inside.

Which is why he’d never noticed the jar filled with money, half hidden behind a pile of Bucky’s laundry.

Steve pulled it out, his eyes widening when he saw how much money was in there. This wasn’t their emergency fund, or their rent fund, or their grocery fund. Steve had never seen this before.

“Bucky,” he said, walking back out into the living room. “What’s this?”

“Huh?” Bucky said, opening one eye. Steve walked over to his bed and help up the jar.

“Oh,” Bucky said sleepily. “That’s the Steve money jar.”

Steve stared at him. “What?”

Bucky didn’t respond, his eyes closing again.

Steve dropped the jar on the bed and went into the kitchen. He returned with a glass of water, thrusting it in front of Bucky’s face.

“I’ll spill this on you if you don’t drink it,” he threatened.

Bucky opened his eyes and smiled up at him. “Aw, thanks.”

Bucky propped himself up on one elbow and drank the entire glass. He handed it back to Steve and slumped down again, curling up on his side this time.

“Bucky,” Steve said again. He held up the jar. “What. Is. This.”

“I told you,” Bucky murmured. “It’s the Steve money Jar.”

Steve took a deep breath, held it, and then let it out slowly. “Where did you get it, what’s it for, and why are you calling it that?”

Bucky blinked his eyes open and stared at him, confused. “It’s for you. That’s why it’s called that.”

Steve stared back. “Why is it for me?

“You’re gonna… you’re gonna need to pay the rent, after I’m gone, and you’ll need money for food and, and for your meds, and – “

“Bucky,” Steve interrupted. “I don’t – I don’t need your charity, I’ll be fine – “

“It’s not charity!” Bucky protested sleepily. “It’s… a present.”

Steve gritted his teeth. “How did you get this, anyway? Did you steal it?”

“No!” Bucky said, his eyes opening more than they had since they got home. “’Course not!”

“Well then?”

“It’s my lunch money,” Bucky said. “And my breakfast money.”

Steve’s heart sank. “You told me you were buying lunch and breakfast at work.”

Bucky shrugged, letting his eyes sink shut again. “Lied.”

Steve ran his hands through his hair, ignoring the way that several strands fell out as he did so. “Bucky, this is your money. I’m not going to take it.”

Bucky’s eyes snapped open again. He scowled. “Fine, then don’t. Give it… give it to my sisters or something.”

Steve sat down on the bed next to him, glaring right back. “It’s your money, Bucky! You worked for this!”

Bucky shrugged. “What am I going to use it for? I’m leaving in three days, Steve.”

“I don’t know! Save it for when you get back. I’ll keep it safe until then.”

Bucky laughed hollowly. “For when I get back? I’m not coming back, Stevie.”

Steve’s anger melted away instantly, turning into cold fear. “What?”

Bucky rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling sleepily. “You heard me.”

“Of course you’re coming back,” Steve snapped. “You’re gonna be fine.”

Bucky turned his head to look at him. He suddenly looked unbearably sad. “It’s not… it’s not that I don’t want to,” he said, his words still a little slurred. “I just… know that I’m not. I’m gonna die over there.”

“You’re not,” Steve said firmly, his jaw clenched. “Don’t talk like that.”

Bucky stared at him sadly. “You asked.”

Steve shook his head. He got up and grabbed the water glass, heading into the kitchen to refill it. He stormed back and handed it to Bucky, glaring at him.

Bucky didn’t meet his eyes. He drank the water and then rolled over, keeping his back to Steve.

There was a long silence. Steve finally turned and started looking through the cupboards.

“Do you want something to eat?” he called. “Just some bread or something?”

Bucky didn’t reply, but Steve could tell from his breathing that he wasn’t asleep.

“Bucky,” Steve said more firmly. “You should eat.”

He stayed quiet.

Steve sighed and gave up. He couldn’t think about this right now. He couldn’t think about what Bucky had said. He’d talk to him about it in the morning. Make him see sense.

Steve went into the bedroom and got changed. He wandered back out into the kitchen to get himself some water. He expected Bucky to have passed out by then.

Sure enough, the room was quiet when Steve walked in. Bucky still had his back to him.

He filled up his water glass, trying to be as quiet as he could. He glanced over at Bucky again when he turned to go back to his room.

Bucky’s shoulders were shaking.

Steve’s heart sank. He set his water glass on the table and walked cautiously over to Bucky’s bed.

“Bucky?”

Bucky didn’t say anything. He just curled in on himself more.

Steve cautiously sat down on the edge of the bed. He reached out and put his hand tentatively on Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky flinched away, and Steve pulled his hand back.

“Bucky…”

Bucky was crying. He’d buried his face into his pillow to try and hide it, but his breath was hitching with each shake of his shoulders.

Steve climbed over him so that he was between Bucky and the wall. He sat next to him, putting his hand on his shoulder again. Bucky didn’t flinch away this time.

“Buck, it’s all right,” Steve said frantically. “You’re just drunk, that’s all. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

Bucky finally looked up at him, and the look on his face broke Steve’s heart.

“I won’t,” Bucky mumbled. “I won’t, Steve.”

“Yeah, you will,” Steve said. He tried to keep his voice even. “You’re gonna be fine.”

Bucky rolled onto his back, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I’m… I don’t want to die, Stevie. I don’t, I don’t – “

“You’re not gonna,” Steve said helplessly.

Bucky just shook his head. He was quiet for a minute.

“Please take the money,” Bucky mumbled. “Please just take it, Stevie.”

Steve hated seeing Bucky like this. He hated it. He’d do anything to calm him down.

“I will,” he said. “I’ll pay the rent while you’re gone, okay? I’ll be here when you get back. I’ll get your sisters and your parents to come over when you come home, and we’ll have a big party for you.”

Bucky rolled onto his side again, so that he was facing Steve. “You’ll take it?”

Steve tried to smile. He didn’t think it worked. “I just said I would, didn’t I?”

Bucky smiled back at him, just for a second. His eyes were starting to close again.

“’M tired,” he mumbled.

Steve lay down next to him, their faces only inches apart.

“Just go to sleep, Buck,” Steve said softly. “We’ll talk about all of this in the morning.”

“Mmm,” Bucky mumbled. He closed his eyes, his breathing already starting to even out.

He was asleep within seconds.

Steve lay awake for hours. He watched the shadows play across Bucky’s face. Listened to the slow, steady sound of him breathing.

He drifted off just as the sun was starting to make its way up into the sky.

 

They didn’t talk about it in the morning.

Bucky groaned and complained when he finally woke up, pulling the pillows over his head. Steve made himself breakfast and waved it under Bucky’s nose, laughing as Bucky swatted at him and turned an interesting shade of green.

They went out for lunch, and just wandered around for a while afterward. They went to Bucky’s parents place for dinner. It was nice.

They didn’t talk about what Bucky had said that night.

Bucky shipped out three days later. A few weeks after that, Steve followed him overseas in a new body and a new uniform.

They didn’t talk about it.

 

That didn’t mean that Steve never thought about it. That didn’t mean that it didn’t flash through his mind as he sat in his new apartment in a new century, reading files filled with horrific descriptions of what they’d done to Bucky.

It didn’t mean that Steve wouldn’t lie awake at night, in that same empty, quiet apartment. That he didn’t squeeze his eyes shut and try to forget the fear in Bucky’s face that night. That he didn’t find himself whispering the words “I’m sorry” over and over until he fell asleep.

In fact, he thought about it all the goddamn time. 

**Author's Note:**

> if you've ever tried to wrangle a drunk person to safety you know how DIFFICULT IT IS HOLY FUCK. last week I was trying to drag my friend home from the club and she decided that she would ONLY walk in the middle of the street. sidewalks were apparently off limits. jfc I seriously considered stopping in a store and buying one of those toddler leashes for her
> 
> for more complaining and strange life stories: [I'm on tumblr](http://cameronwolfe.tumblr.com).


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